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Susan Bradford Eppes 
(Mrs. Nicholas Ware Eppes) 


VERSES FROM FLORIDA 


BY 

SUSAN BRADFORD EPPES 




1938 

MACON, GEORGIA 
J. W. BURKE COMPANY 



2 



COPYRIGHTED 1938 
BY 

SUSAN BRADFORD EPPES 



©ClA 1 25290 

°.v 


DEC 29 1933 


We ask your kindest judgment Reader dear. 
For this attempt at verse which you find here, 
It was not meant to fill the printed page 
But just some leisure moments to engage ; 

To calm the nerves when tense and over¬ 
wrought, 

Or make a pretty dress to clothe a thought. 
Life is so deep—so full of hopes and fears 
And oftentimes we smile to hide our tears. 























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INTRODUCTION 


A long time ago—nearly eighty years in 
point of fact, beautiful Montvale, nestled 
down amid the lofty mountains of “The Land 
of Sky”, was a favored resort for the people 
of the “Old South” when summer sent them 
roaming. Montvale was evidently a new 
place; the large, comfortable hotel showed 
signs of hasty construction, and was guilt¬ 
less of paint. The cottages, some twenty or 
more, were dotted here and there in the 
bright green sward, and they too shone with 
newness. Two streams almost large enough 
to be called rivers came leaping and sparkling 
down the mountain sides from opposite di¬ 
rections, and rippling and gurgling among 
the rocks, flowing in and out between the 
cottages, adding a rare beauty to the scene. 

Always at southern summer resorts chil¬ 
dren were much in evidence and Montvale 
really seemed to have even more than her 
share. After breakfast, when the smaller chil¬ 
dren with their “Black Mammies” were 
amusing themselves with the swings, the 
joggling boards, the merry-go-round, and so 
forth, which had been erected especially for 
their benefit, the boys and girls who had out¬ 
grown a nurse's care went trooping to seek 
a wider playground. 

Of this crowd of happy children two were 

(?) 


not so strong nor hardy as the others and 
soon they were distanced by their more ac¬ 
tive companions. One was a boy of fifteen 
slender and delicate with a handsome, 
thoughtful face; the other was a little girl 
who claimed to be thirteen, but appeared to 
be much younger. She was well and would 
have enjoyed climbing the rugged way with 
the others, but an unlucky accident had 
lamed her for the time being. The boy car¬ 
ried each day a small portfolio containing 
pencils and paper, and sometimes he stretch¬ 
ed himself out on the flat white rocks and 
grew so absorbed in his writing that the 
little girl would be quite forgotten: but he 
was always kind when he remembered her, 
and she did not interrupt, for she too was a 
dreamer of dreams and could always find 
entertainment in her own thoughts, especial¬ 
ly amid such surroundings. 

One day after one of these long silences 
he raised his head, sat up on the rock and 
said, “Well, little mouse, I don’t believe you 
have even nibbled.” Then he asked, “Did you 
ever read any poetry?” 

“Yes”, was the answer. “Don’t you think 
you could tell me which poet you like best?” 

“No”, was the decided reply, “It de¬ 
pends on the way one feels which poet seems 
best. Today I like Sir Walter Scott, because 
he writes such grand poems about the Scotch 
mountains.” 


“You funny little thing, I did not know 
you had any thoughts.” 

“Sometimes I have”, was the quiet an¬ 
swer. 

“I am writing poetry”, he said, “suppose 
I read some of it to you.” 

Every day after this he read her his poems 
and one day she held out a small brown 
hand and said, “Give me that one that I may 
take it home with me.” But this he would 
not do. “No, I am going to have them pub¬ 
lished in a book sometime, and then you can 
have them all.” 

“What will your book be called?” ques¬ 
tioned the child. 

“I do not know yet, but one thing I know, 
in the cover just under the name in letters 
of gold will be ‘By Sidney Lanier’.” 

He went back to school; she went home 
to Florida .... it was “out of sight, out of 
mind.” 

Years had passed away, years in which 
that awful interlude of the War Between the 
States had come, when the little girl, now a 
happy wife and mother, read in a paper of 
a bright, particular Star that had risen in the 
world of Letters, and the name of this star 
was Sidney Lanier. She remembered his 
longing to be famous and she rejoiced for 
him, but she had no time for ambition of her 
own,—Life for her held so much that was 
worth while. 


M 


Then came the time when feeble and al¬ 
most blind she was cut off from the active 
life she loved; something must take its 
place. She wrote books and the critics were 
kind. 

Now, at ninety-two, she is launching this 
bark on the sea of Public Opinion, with many 
misgivings as to a successful voyage. 


( 10 ) 


VERSES FROM FLORIDA 


These verses come to you from Florida, 
Land of sunshine and flowers, 

Where our brothers of the Northland 
Delight to spend the wintry hours. 


Some like the Gulf Coast best: 

Its inlets deep, its trees so grand; 
The lovely growth on every side 
Planted by Nature’s hand. 


Some seek the Magic City, 

Where many pleasures be, 

Where the broad white Beach of Miami 
Ever echoes the Song of the Sea. 


Some travel hither and thither 
In cars of luxurious ease, 

From the red clay hills of old Leon 
Down to the Florida Keys. 


( 11 ) 


12 


Verses From Florida 


True they will go with the Springtime, 
By motor or yacht or train, 

But when Winter hangs out his signals 
They will surely come again. 


Would you like to know the reason 
Why it charms both great and small? 
The matchless climate of Florida 
Is the magnet that draws them all. 



Verses From Florida 


13 


’MID THE HILLS OF OLD LEON 

It is Springtime in Old Leon. 

Was there ever a fairer sight, 
Rosy, fragrant Crab-apple trees, 
Dogwoods veiled in lacy white. 

Lilies white and golden 

Lie on the lake’s blue breast, 
Where a water-fowl on one long leg 
Is taking a needed rest. 

The Cherokee runs along the fence 
Climbing the near-by trees, 

Across the road we catch the gleam 
Of the Crimson Maple keys. 

The Hawthorn bends its branches 
To meet the wind’s caress, 

Like a Bride who greets her lover 
In a wonderful wedding-dress. 

The wild plum is out in its beauty, 
There are so many of these, 
Blossoming by the roadside 
Or under the forest trees. 



14 


Verses From Florida 


High over head a brilliant pink 
Clothes the leafless Judas tree. 

Near its roots is a Mullein Rosette 
The softest green on the lea. 

Just ahead is a “Glory of Gold” 

A bower of jasmine vine, 

Strong and sweet is its perfume, 

Subtle, like rare old wine. 

Viburnam, with round, heavy heads, 

Many flowered, creamy-white, 

With its dark, rich leaves and shining stems 
Is a vision of pure delight. 

O’er a carpet of pine-straw strewn with 
leaves 

To a thicket where birds are singing, 
And close beside it a bare, brown log 
Where Indian Pipes are springing. 

On we push through the wildwood, 

Our eager search we renew, 

Ah, there it is—we have found it at last, 
This Gentian of rarest blue. 



Verses From Florida 


15 


Now we stand on a mossy bank, 

Shady, moist and cool, 

Surely this is the very spot 

Where “Twenty Froggies went to 
school.” 

The bloodroot white and the Violets blue, 
Their modest heads held down, 

The innocence with face upturned, 

While it closely hugs the ground. 

The Honeysuckle, branching wide 
In tints of white and rose, 

Is just the loveliest flower of all 
That in the marsh-land grows. 

Graceful, slender, delicate, 

Reflected in the stream, 

Like the rosy dawn of a summer’s morn, 
Or a poet’s waking dream. 

That broad green leaf is Caladiun, 

A Pussy-willow near, 

The South wind is tearing her Catkins off 
To float on the streamlet clear. 



i6 


Verses From Florida 


Hundreds of tiny flowers are blooming 
along the way, 

Each one doing its part 
To brighten up the day. 


Again we are climbing the hill, 

Outlined against the sky, 

A Fringe-tree is waving soft, white fringe 
To the evening’s lullaby. 


Once more we stand on the hill-top, 

’Tis red with the Coral-bean, 

Far in the distance the Pine Trees stand, 
Like a wall of living green. 


The shades of night are falling, 
’Twill end this walk of ours, 
Father, we thank Thee for Thy gifts 
Of Springtime and the flowers. 


*These are only the first spring blossoms which come in 
early springtime to gladden our hungry eyes. Later in the 
season there are many more. 




Verses From Florida 


17 


THE TALE OF A TREE 

On the red clay hill, 

A Hickory-nut fell, 

From the hand of a little boy; 

He had brought it home 
From the far off woods 

And he viewed his treasure with joy. 

He turned it about in 
His moist little hand, 

He tossed it up like a ball; 

’Twas toss and catch 
For a good long while 

Then the little brown nut had a fall. 

His copper-toed shoe 
Kicked the leaves about, 

At last he went down on his knees, 
But no trace was there 
Of his treasure trove 

’Neath the bright-hued Myrtle trees. 



i8 


Verses From Florida 


So safely ’twas hidden 
’Twas never seen 

By the passers day after day, 

And the boy forgot, 

But God did not 

Where the nut had rolled away. 

The winter rains fell, 

Deep in the ground 

They carried the little brown ball 
Closely covered 
The little nut lay 

In wait for the Master’s call. 

Springtime came, 

A pale green shoot 

Grew up in the midst of the grass, 
So tiny and green 
’Twas never seen 

By the careless eyes that passed. 


All summer it grew, 

And nobody knew 

What the grass and flowers are con¬ 
cealing, 



Verses From Florida 


19 


Then autumn, came 
And its leaves fell off 

A slim little body revealing 


’Twas springtime again, 

On a nearby porch 

Were sitting brothers three, 

Stalwart men 

Of the South’s best blood 

Who had marched in Virginia with Lee. 


They spied the sapling 
Unnoticed ’til now, 

Tho’ oft they sat in that door 
And they guessed the name 
Of the strange little tree 

They never had noticed before. 


’Twas out in its newest 
Fresh spring dress 

Its leaves faintly tinted with red, 
’Twas hard to say 
Just what it was 

When it had such a small round head. 



20 


Verses From Florida 


“That’s an English Walnut’’, 
“No, ’tis a Pecan”, 

All looked at the tiny tree, 

The eldest squinted his 
Bright blue eyes, 

“Looks like a Hickory to me”. 


Fed by the Sun, 

The Rain and the Dew, 

That Hickory grew apace; 
It grew to know 
And it grew to love 

Full many a human face. 


It loved the children 
Who played in its shade, 

And the merry maidens fair, 

It loved the boys 
So strong and brave 

Who talked with the maidens there. 


It loved the kindly, 
White-haired folks, 

Whose steps were often slow, 



Verses From Florida 


21 


Whose chastened eyes 
Looked backward 

To “The Land of Long Ago”. 

It had shared their 
Hours of gladness, 

When everything went well; 

It had shared 

Their hours of anguish, 

When bitter tear drops fell. 


How many things 
That tree could tell, 

If it had the “Gift of Speech” 
But the language of 
Its whispering leaves 

No linguist can ever teach. 



22 


Verses From Florida 


A 

CHRISTMAS OFFERING 
TO 

MY DEAR SISTER 


CHRISTMAS OF LONG AGO 


Memory is a kindly friend, 

She brings us back the vanished hours, 
When Time, the thief, would have us think 
His footsteps only fell on flowers. 

’Tis Christmas Eve—young hearts are gay, 
Every window glows with light, 

Vines gleam along the polished stair, 

And all around are roses bright. 

Wreaths of Holly with berries red 
Upon the walls are seen 
With the tiny, shiny Yupon 
Like rubies mid the green; 

Mistletoe hangs in the hall, 

Stop beneath it we would not dare. 

For Aunt Robinson watches the young folks 
From a seat on the vine-clad stair. 






Verses From Florida 


23 


Young couples stand upon the floor, 
Mother’s music greets the ear, 

With one accord each couple turns 

And dance to the tune of “Forked Deer” 
Both North and South Carolina 
Are danced with Christmas glee 
Then “Molly put the kettle on 
And we’ll all have tea.” 

“Fisher’s Hornpipe” speeds our steps 
Which makes it very handy 
To execute some brilliant stunts 
For “Yankee Doodle Dandy”. 

Then came Quadrilles as stately 
As Grandmother’s Minuet, 

Then like a crowd of children, 

We merrily dance the “Coquette”. 

Tired, we stop for supper, 

So many good things to eat! 

But time is short, and all of us find, 

We have little wings on our feet. 
Mother’s fingers touch lightly the keys, 

“Sir Roger de Coverley” rules the hour, 
Young and old stand up on the floor, 

Moved by the music’s compelling power. 



24 


Verses From Florida 


For who of us all fatigue could feel 

When Mother played the “Virginia Reel”? 
The dance is over; goodnights are said; 

Put out the lights and go to bed; 

’Tis time for Santa Claus’ reindeer sled, 
’Twill soon be Christmas Morning! 



Verses From Florida 


25 


CHRISTMAS 

NINETEEN HUNDRED AND NINETEEN 

Many years have passed, dear Heart; 

Since you and I were young 
And we’ve lost the trick of the dancing feet, 
And the turn of the merry tongue. 

But we’ve something better than youth, dear 
Heart, 

For we’ve gone many miles on our way, 

The way that leads to Eternal Life 

And the loved ones who could not stay. 


They’ll be ours again in the Home Over There, 
With never a cloud or a doubt, 

And never a chance that the joy of life, 

By Death may be blotted out. 

So we’ll cheerfully go on our way, dear Heart, 
With a kindly word and a smile, 

And spend the days that are left us here 
In doing the “Things worth while’’. 



26 


Verses From Florida 


GRANDMOTHER’S WEDDING DRESS 

A sweet little maiden of long ago 
Sat in her high-backed chair, 

And her needle moved swiftly to and fro 
As she wrought on the fabric fair. 

Muslin from India’s loom it was, 

Dainty, and sheer, and fine, 

And on it she wrought with patient skill 
A pattern of grape and leaf and vine. 

Daintily poised is the pretty head 
And straight as an arrow is she, 

Tho’ she bends at times to the fading light 
The wondrous pattern to see. 

Only a few more stitches now, 

Her work is almost done, 

And the brown curls falling o’er brow and cheek 
Borrow gold from the setting sun. 

There! The last little stitch is set! 

She spreads it out on her knee, 

And we who look through the mist of years 
Ask what can the garment be? 

I’ll tell you, my dears, you would never guess, 
Tho’ ’tis only two yards wide, 



Verses From Florida 


27 


’Tis a dress,—a party dress at that, 

To be worn to wait on a bride. 

At a wedding grand in the Old North State 
A brides-maid she is to be 
When Hilliard of Halifax giveth his child 
To a bride-groom from over the sea. 

Sad at heart is the proud old man 
For this daughter is last of his line, 

But he buries his grief in his stout old breast 
And gives her an “Infare” fine. 

Three days and nights the guests did spend 
In feasting and dance and song, 

And our little maid in her dress of mull 
Was fairest of all the throng. 

Homeward in state she went her way, 

Her father, the Governor, rode by her side, 

And many a lofty “Chateau d’Espagne” 

He built for his child ere they ended their ride. 

But the maiden’s heart and her promise were given 
To one who was worthy the pure gem to wear: 
No dreams of fortune or fame could tempt her, 
For him e’en her father’s stern frown she would 
dare. 



28 


Verses From Florida 


And so it chanced one tenth of November 
The little white dress was again put on— 

’Mid smiles and tears, with her mother’s blessing 
From the home of her childhood the young bride 
has gone. 

Fifty years and more have passed,— 

The tenth of November comes again,— 

And Grandmother takes the dress from her trunk 
Where for many and many a year it has lain. 

A minister stands with a babe in his arms, 

A babe with soft dark eyes of brown, 

And he christens her there with her Grandmoth¬ 
er’s name, 

In her Grandmother’s Wedding Gown. 

Grandmother now has gone from our sight, 

But her memory sweet abides with us ever: 
“To live in hearts we leave behind” 

Is life,—the true life,—that endures forever! 
Shake it out reverently, softly fold it,— 

Every light touch is a tender caress,— 

More precious by far than pearls from the Orient 
Is dear little Grandmother’s Wedding Dress. 



Verses From Florida 


29 


LOST IN THE DISMAL SWAMP 


John Branch, of North Carolina, as he loved to be called, 
was born in Halifax Town in 1783 while his father was 
with General Greene fighting the British. John Branch was 
educated at Chapel Hill where he graduated at the age of 
eighteen. He studied law under Judge Haywood and was 
married in April, 1803, before he attained his majority. 
From that time on he won every honor in the gift of his 
State. The incident narrated in this poem occurred before 
his marriage. 


Carolina’s Dismal Swamp 
Will live in story and song: 

Many hearts have ached 

At its tales of mystery and wrong. 


Shadows darken the noon-day 
Of branches bending down, 
While vines to catch the unwary 
Cover the yielding ground. 


Morass and quick-sand wait 
To drag their victims down; 

While the treacherous, venomous serpents 
Are gliding o’er the ground. 




30 


Verses From Florida 


Only those who are forced to hide 
Enter this darksome den, 

Those who have broken the Laws of God 
And must hide from the sight of men. 

No path is here in this trackless wild 
Save the trail of the beast to his lair, 
The jungle beasts, who, on padded feet, 
Come on you unaware. 


In the early days of the Old North State 
Settlers were few and far apart 
The loss of a child in the Dismal Swamp 
Sent terror to every heart. 


Yet this was the message borne that day 
By a rider who tarried not; 

His tale once told, he spurred his steed 
And sought another spot. 

He carried the news for miles and miles, 
He went to every home. 

These brave men lost not a moment, 

But made all haste to come. 



Verses Front Florida 


31 


They did not waste a minute, 

These warm-hearted Pioneers, 

But eagerly started on the search, 

To quiet the mother’s fears. 

With them rode a stripling, 

Slender, with eyes, of blue, 

Tho’ the youngest of all, he was ready, 
Like them, to dare and to do. 

All night long through the jungle 

They searched every foot of ground, 
With pine torch and with lantern, 

But no trace of the child could be found. 


In daylight and in darkness 

They scoured the Swamp in vain, 
And now they felt it was useless, 

They would ne’er see the baby again. 


The sun was once more rising redly 
When at last they turned to go, 

For hope was dead and strength was spent, 
And man could do no more. 



32 


Verses From Florida 


The boy was loth to go— 

He longed so to find the child; 

He turned his horse’s head once more, 
And entered the swampy wild. 


And there, almost at his horse’s feet, 
Covered with mire and clay, 

Torn by bramble and by brier, 

The sleeping baby lay. 


John Branch lived long and wisely, 
Life brought him wealth and fame, 
Carolina gave him all her gifts, 

And her citizens honored his name. 


Children and children’s children 
Gathered ’round his chair, 

For they loved this grand old man 
With his snow-white, silvery hair. 

They loved to ask him questions 
As children often do, 

They delighted in his answers, 

For his tales were always true. 



Verses From Florida 


33 


“Grandfather, in all your long, long life, 

“What was the greatest thing? 

“Was it when you called Grandmother your wife, 
“And slipped on the wedding ring?” 

“Ah, that was a joyous day, my child, 

“But out of the past comes another, 

“When I found the child in the Dismal Swamp 
“And carried him to his mother.” 



3 


Verses From Florida 


THE TALE THE TETE-A-TETE TOLD 
TO THE 

GRANDCHILDREN OF HER PAST 

’Tis good to be at home, my Dears, 

’Tho’ it isn’t the same old place, 

Good to see the light of remembrance, 

Shining out from each well-loved face. 

To know that out of the shadows, 

Joy to me has come, 

And once more the poor old derelict, 

Has found both people and home. 

I’ve lived a life of Romance, my Dears, 

’Tho’ I’ve long passed my three-score and ten 
I’ll guard all the secrets whispered to me, 

As tenderly now as then. 

For age makes the heart grow fonder, 

More patient, more tender, and true, 

And your Tete-a-tete never will say one word 
That can ever give pain to you. 

We lived in a house through whose wide-opened 
doors 

Came the healing breath of the Pine, 



Verses Fro?n Florida 


35 


And the sunshine flooding the landscape, 
Cheered and strengthened like wine; 

There were roses and lilies and violets, 

And flowers with names hard to call, 

But the sweet little Mistress who tended them 
Knew and loved them all. 

The voices of children made music, 

Echoing up the broad stair, 

While the Father and Mother looked happily on 
At their darlings frolicking there. 

These two had a lovely romance, 

From a Tete-a-tete’s point of view, 

But the words I heard I will never repeat, 

Not even, my Dears, to you. 

All must change in this world of ours, 

“The sweetest is fleetest” they say, 

And even this home of contentment 
Knew changes day by day. 

The children grew up—the “Tables of Life” 
Were turned again and again. 

There were smiles and sunshine, sighs and tears, 
Such as come to the “Sons of Men”. 

The grandchildren came—a merry lot, 

(I had grown somewhat faded and worn) 



36 


Verses From Florida 


And soon my dress was covered with rents 
Their rough little feet had torn; 

But I loved them all, and I held them close 
When they snuggled down on me 
While they sang little songs, or told fairy tales, 
Or laughed in their innocent glee. 


Now, gone is the Mistress w r hose eyes of blue, 
It gave me joy to see, 

Gone is the Master who sat by her side 
With the little ones on his knee. 

Gone are the youths and the maidens fair 
Who sat in my circling arm, 

Gone are the children who filled the Old Home 
With merriment and charm. 

’Twas a heartbreaking change—for years I sat 
Covered w T ith dust and grime, 

And naught but Memory was left 
To tell of that olden time. 

Not a sound was heard but the voice of the wind, 
Like the wail of a lost Banshee, 

Or the mournful hoot of a lonely owl 
From the depths of the old oak tree. 

In the empty house I sat me down, 

My head in grief was bowed, 




Verses From Florida 


37 


For the dearest home that ever was 
And the jolliest, merriest crowd. 

I feared they had left me there to die, 

But no—there came a day 
When rough hands carelessly pulled me about 
And carried me far away. • 


Now scrubbed and polished and spick and span, 

I sit in your midst once more, 

And all around me the faces I scan 
Of my comrades in days of yore, 

There sit the Chippendales, stately and grand, 
And the Sofa, where many can rest; 

There’s the Dowager Rocker, who always claimed 
That a seat in her arms was best. 

There’s the Piano the Mistress loved, 

’Tis mute, but in memory lingers, 

The thrilling tones that filled the air 
At the touch of her dainty fingers. 

The big lamp sat on the round table there; 

When the family would gather about it 
The lamp would grow vain and haste to explain 
They really could not do without it. 

The straight-backed chairs, so dignified, 

The what-not, with all its little collections, 




38 


Verses From Florida 


The mirror so tall, who revealed to us all, 
The most unbelievably brilliant reflections. 
Yes, it is good to see them again— 

And I thank you truly, my Dears, 

For bringing me back to my good old friends, 
To spend my declining years. 

No more shall I eat my heart out 
As I sit in the mildew and rust, 

No more shall the rose on my bosom 
Be covered o’er with dust. 

And rest assured, what you whisper to me 
I never, no never, will tell, 

No lock and key will needed be, 

I’ll guard your secrets so well. 



Verses From Florida 


39 


THE CUTTING OF THE “M” 


I have been advised that the following verses need an 
explanation,, which I will endeavor to give. Reviewing the 
various Histories of England and the many Encyclopedias 
the reader will find many discrepancies as to the burial 
place of Richard Cromwell and where his last days were 
spent. I will now give you the correct information on these 
points. 

I am a lineal descendant of Oliver Cromwell, belonging 
to the sixth generation from the Lord Protector himself. 
When he died his son Richard Cromwell nominally suc¬ 
ceeded him, but the greater part of the English people had 
tired of the strict morality and plain living enforced by 
the Cromwell regime. They longed for “the fleshpots of 
Egypt”, and flocked to the standard of Charles the Second. 

Though even today England owes many of her rights and 
privileges to the wisdom and courage of Oliver Cromwell, 
at the time of the Restoration they showed the basest in¬ 
gratitude. His grave was opened—his coffin dragged forth— 
his head severed from his body and stuck on a pole. With 
this, Charles Second’s troopers paraded the streets of Lon¬ 
don shouting out ribald jests, while the populace hurled 
every vile and abusive epithet at their once honored leader. 
Then the skull was thrown in the street and kicked over 
London by the King’s minions. 

Is it any wonder that Richard Cromwell left England? 
He, with his wife and babies, took refuge in Leyden: how 
long he stayed there we do not know, nor have we the exact 
date on which he with his family left Holland for America. 
The vessel on which he sailed touched at Liverpool where 
other members of his family joined him. It was their desire 
to lose their identity, hence, the cutting of the M. 

Richard Cromwell settled in Halifax County, North Caro¬ 
lina, and his home was called “The' Fens.” Bridget Crom¬ 
well and her second husband, Gen. Fairfax, traveled on to 




40 


Verses From Florida 


Virginia where some of the Fairfax family had already 
settled. Her first husband was Gen. Edward Ireton, Com¬ 
mander of “The Ironsides.” At his death Gen. Fairfax com¬ 
manded “The Ironsides” and in time married Gen. Ireton's 
widow. 

The first child born to Richard Cromwell in America was 
baptised Edward Ireton Crowell. 

Two other sons of Oliver Cromwell participated in the 
cutting of the M. One of these went to Massachusetts; the 
other to a French settlement on the Great Lakes. 

The Crowells of North Carolina have always been quiet, 
law-abiding people; they did not seek political honors and 
refused them when offered with one exception, John Crowell, 
who was in the United States Senate. 

In the War of the Revolution and again in 1812 they vol¬ 
unteered and served faithfully; when the war was over 
they returned to the privacy of their own homes. 

When Wheeler wrote his History of North Carolina he 
sent agents to make a house to house canvass of the state 
to collect family data. There were, at that time, six fam¬ 
ilies of Crowells in Halifax County, but not one of them 
all had a word to say, so Wheeler had to fall back on the 
neighborhood gossip. 

The family history has been handed down from one gen¬ 
eration to the next, but there is no longer any reason for 
concealment. For the benefit of Historians let me add that 
Richard Cromwell was buried in Halifax Town, and there 
was no stone to mark his resting place. 

After the restoration the family of Oliver Cromwell left 
England, taking refuge first in Holland and then in Amer¬ 
ica. They wished to lose their identity, and on the voyage 
across the Atlantic they cut the “M” from the name, mak¬ 
ing it Crowell and it is this they have been called ever since. 

A sad-faced group on the vessel’s deck, 

A vessel outward bound; 

They pay no heed to the Captain’s words 
Or the sailors hurrying ’round; 



Verses From Florida 


41 


With stern-set faces and tear-dimmed eyes 
They gaze on the fast receding shore, 

For never again, save in memory or dream, 

Will they see Old England more. 

For eleven shadowed, storm-swept years 
They sat on the heights of fame; 

But now—there’s no word in the language 
Too vile for that once honored name. 

For these are the children of Cromwell 
Who are sadly sailing West 

To seek in the New World forests 
Oblivion and rest. 

The ship had reached mid-ocean 
When he who was their head 

Beckoned them up to the table 

Where a parchment lay out-spread: 

In low, tense tones he spoke to them, 

Of foes, who were many—friends, who were 
few, 

Of the need for care and caution 
In beginning life anew. 

“Ere we leave this waste of waters, 

Ere we reach the Western shore, 



42 


Verses From Florida 


We must lay aside forever 

The dear name our father bore.” 

A smothered sob of anguish 

From a woman’s broken heart,— 

An answering moan of agony 
From one who stood apart. 

Closer they drew to their leader, 

And one and all agree 
To cut the “M” from Cromwell 
And cast it into the sea. 

’Twas done—in an oaken casket, 

With hasp, and lock, and key, 

The “M” was weighted heavily, 

And buried deep in the sea. 

The mutilated parchment 
Was tenderly laid away, 

To be treasured along with tokens 
Of a brighter, happier day. 

They found a home and good, kind friends, 
On Carolina’s pine-girt shore, 

But the children of Oliver Cromwell 
Were known as Crowell evermore. 



Verses From Florida 


43 


MY SOLDIER IN GRAY 

So young and so handsome, 

So brave and so neat, 
From the crown of his head 
To the soles of his feet, 


He’s the light of my eyes 
As he marches away 
To a place at the front 

With his Comrades in Gray. 


For years he has battled 
For his Country’s rights, 

Yet the bullets have spared him 
In the fiercest of fights; 


Some day he’ll come home— 
I hope and I pray—- 
For ’tis Heaven on Earth, 
With my Soldier in Gray. 



44 


Verses From Florida 


A PROTEST 


When the Spanish-American War called troops from 
North and South into action, a number of newspaper cor¬ 
respondents spoke of the Southern boys as “Yankees". 
Finally someone wrote some verses entitled “The Yankee, 
Fitz Hugh Lee", which explains this protest. 

There is one thing that is puzzling us, 

It troubles us full sore, 

And ’tho we do not like it, 

We hear it o’er and o’er, 

For our brothers of the Northland, 

Have the very strange idea, 

That we long to have them call us, 

By the name they hold so dear. 

In seventeen seventy-six, 

When the bells of freedom rung, 

And George, the King of England, 

In effigy was hung, 

Our Grandsires fought for liberty, 

Until the war was done, 

And the British called them “Rebels”, 

Yes, Rebels, every one. 




Verses From Florida 


45 


Again the cannon boomed, 

In eighteen sixty-one, 

At the call “To arms in Dixie”, 

Each man took up his gun, 

For the rights our Fathers pledged to us, 
We fought for four long years, 

And the Cause we loved, was lost to us, 
In bitter grief and tears. 

The anguish we endured, 

No other can ever know, 

We prayed in Gethsemane’s Garden, 

For strength to bear the blow, 

And the Yankees called us rebels, 

As our shadowed path we trod, 

And we’ll love the name forever, 

As we love the truth and God. 

Now we are all Americans, 

And fighting for the flag, 

In the thickest of the battle, 

We will falter not, nor lag— 

To help our Uncle Samuel, 

We’ll gladly do our part, 

But when you call us “Yankees”, 

You cut us to the heart. 



46 


Verses From Florida 


MEMORIAL DAY 
April 26 

Tenderly, softly, place the flowers 

On the sod where our hero is sleeping: 

O’er the stone which marks the head of his grave 
The ivy is silently creeping. 

Proudly he marched in his suit of gray, 

Through tears we watched him go. 

They brought him back with a ball in his breast 
Which showed how he faced the foe. 

The baby he left is a grandmother now: 

To each child she tells the story, 

Their young hearts thrill when they hear her tell 
Of his Courage, Devotion, and Glory. 

Many years have passed away, 

Many more will come and go, 

Yet the torch of memory brightly burns 
Nothing can dim its glow. 

Enshrined in the love of her people 
The Old South will ever be, 

Her Altar Fires are burning 
In the hearts of the U. D. C. 



Verses From Florida 


47 


Her brave deeds can ne’er be forgotten, 
She has won immortal fame: 

Greater in defeat and disaster 

Than those to whom victory came. 

The Gray Line is getting thinner— 

The Veterans are marching on— 

Yet we’ll honor the Southland’s Heroes 
’Til the very last one is gone. 

And forevermore in the Springtime, 
When the lilies and roses bloom, 

We’ll gather the fragrant blossoms 
And garland each Soldier’s tomb. 



48 


Verses From Florida 


ARE WE MISTAKEN? 


The following lines are based on the dispatch widely 
published that members of the Grand Army of the Re¬ 
public Post at Columbus, Ohio, had rejected a floral offer¬ 
ing sent by Ex-Confederates of the South, to be placed on 
Union graves there, because the design contained the 
emblem of the U. S. Flag supported by an arm clothed in 
Confederate Gray above and an arm clothed in blue beneath. 

And so we are not one people yet, 

In spite of all that’s been said— 

We have not buried the feud of years 
With our Union’s latest dead; 

Somewhere the “Spirit of Hate’’ survives, 
Someone still cherishes wrath, 

Tho at San Juan and El Caney, 

North and South trod the same fiery path. 

Some hearts are bitter and unjust still, 

Else we would not read today 
That the G. A. R.’s of Columbus had 
Refused the flowers sent by the Gray. 
What legend could have been better 
Than that the flowers told, 

The Blue and the Gray together, 

Seeking one flag to uphold. 




Verses From Florida 


49 


What is it they ask or expect of us? 

Do they think we can ever forget? 

And while we are doing our duty, do they 
Think there is naught we regret? 

Do they think we will ere cease to love it? 

That uniform of Gray— 

Tho it, like many who wore it, 

Has long since passed away. 

The few who are left, are doing their best 
To honor the Starry Flag, 

Not one, of them all, has ever been known 
On Duty’s path to lag. 

Whether in field or forum, 

They work for their Country’s good. 
To do the best that in them lies, 

Is all that angels could. 

Go ask the soldier boys who fought 
Through Cuban swamp and dell, 

And helped to form the “thin blue line” 
Oft broken by 1 Spanish shell 
Ask them who helped and cheered them on, 
If Wheeler stayed in the rear, 

And waited for dispatches— 

News from the Front, to hear. 



50 


Verses From Florida 


Ask Fitz Hugh’s men, if their leader, 
Calmly sat at his ease, 

While his soldiers around him were dying 
Of mismanagement and disease. 

Have they not served their Country well, 
Tho both had worn the Gray, 

And yet the flowers sent in love 
Were scornfully cast away. 

Oh, G. A. R.’s of Ohio, 

’Twas a needless thing to do; 

But it shows the spirit within you, 

Each to his own nature is true. 

Some natures can not rise above 
The petty things of earth. 

And peace and love and mercy, 

Are all of Heavenly birth. 



Verses From Florida 


5i 


CHICKAMAUGA 

Nineteen Hundred and Twenty-Five 


A way down South in Florida, 

My dear old wife and me, 

Bethought us to go pleasuring 
’Mid the Hills of Tennessee. 

When I was young, long years before, 

And wife as yet was Mollie Nixey, 

I donned the uniform of Gray 

And marched off to the tune of Dixie. 

My head is white, my pulses slow, 

Yet memory plays strange tricks with me, 
I longed to visit once again, 

Where I had fought in ’Sixty-three. 

Where once a country trail led on, 

Paved road and well-kept Park we found, 
And splendid Monuments stood there 
Upon that blood-bespattered ground. 




52 


Verses From Florida 


From Markers, standing here and there I read 
aloud, 

That Wife, whose eyes are dim, might know, 
Just what it was recorded there, 

Whether the deeds of friend or foe. 

My sagging shoulders straightened up; 

My pulse beat fast and strong; 

Once more my feet with measured step, 

Marched, with my Comrades on. 

We raise our strong, young voices, 

In the famous Rebel Yell f 
With musket and with cannon 
We feed them shot and shell, 

We charge them with the bayonet— 

By The Eternal Powers— 

Thomas’ line is Broken — 

And the Victory is Ours! 


The dream is past—-time stays for none— 
Old age resumes its sway— 

Yet Evermore I Shall Rejoice 
That I Have Worn the Gray. 




Verses From Florida 


53 


THEIR SILVER WEDDING DAY 

(To Judge and Mrs. George P. Raney, 
Tampa, Fla.) 


’Mid the red hills of Old Leon 
Lived a maiden fair to see, 

No fairer trod the city’s streets, 

Or wandered o’er the lea. 

Of Suitors there were many 
Who came this lass to woo, 

With tales of adoration 

Which should evermore be true. 

But this charming, smiling Claudia 
Let them one by one depart, 

For the image of another 

Was enshrined within her heart. 
Playmates, their love had deepened 
Into something fine and pure, 
Built upon a foundation 

Which should evermore endure. 

And so the doors of Lakeland 
Again were opened wide, 




54 


Verses From Florida 


That loving friends might gather 
To honor this beautiful bride. 

Blessings on them both, 

This youthful, happy pair, 

May the love-light in their faces 
Remain forever there. 

Where the Gulf’s blue waters leave the shore, 
Where summer lingers evermore, 

Where orange blossoms scent the air, 

And bloom in beauty everywhere, 

They made their home. 

We hear so much of storm and strife, 
Attendant upon married life; 

But little we hear of that happy estate, 

When each soul finds its own true mate, 
Henceforth no more to roam. 

’Tis ours to tell of this happy side, 

Where the wife is loved as was the bride, 

Where her loyal heart is true to him 
With a love which time can never dim, 

The aftermath of youth. 

Such is the life we were meant to live, 

Such is the love we were meant to give; 



Verses From Florida 


55 


Deep in the heart its strong roots lie, 

Death itself cannot break the tie 
Of love and truth 

Far from the hills of Leon 

Where the marriage vows were made, 

Far from the home of their childhood, 

The land of sunshine and shade. 

In the lovely city of Tampa, 

Like a queen by her beautiful Bay, 

There came to this happy couple 
Their Silver Wedding Day. 

No word of this did they utter 

When they bade their friends to come 
And spend a social evening 
In their hospitable home. 

The pleasant murmur of voices 

Ceased when there fell upon the ear 
The strains of the dear old Wedding March 
Which all of us love to hear. 

The silken rustle on the stair, 

The odor of orange bloom, 

Drew the quick attention 
Of all within the room. 



56 


Verses From Florida 


Attired as twenty-five years ago, 

Their Host and Hostess came, 

And time had touched them so lightly, 

They looked almost the same. 

A loved voice caroled sweetly 
A dear old wedding song, 

But ’twas lost in the merry chatter 
Of the eager, excited throng. 

May a loving Father bless them, 

May they see their Golden Day, 

May joys be many, cares be few, 

As they travel on life’s way. 

May the son they love so dearly 
Walk ever at their side, 

And may he, in the years to come, 

Find as fair and sweet a bride. 

And may they be like this couple 
Of whom to-day we sing, 

Who have learned that of all the blessings of God 
Love is the greatest thing. 



Verses From Florida 


57 


GOLDEN BELLS 
To 

Col. and Mrs. John P. Cobb, on their Fiftieth 
Anniversary. 

December 7, 1915. 


List to the golden wedding bells 
Ringing out on the frosty air, 

They tell of a time that is long gone by, 

Of a youth and a maiden fair. 

They tell of a day when the war was o’er, 
When the sword was laid aside, 

And the soldier, following his heart’s behest, 
Sought out his promised bride. 

Ring on, ring on! The tale ye tell 
Is the sweetest that ever was told; 

A love that has lasted for fifty long years 
Is more precious than silver or gold. 

A love that began in the morning of life 
And has stronger grown with the years, 

Blessed beyond words in many ways, 

Yet baptised too with tears. 




58 


Verses From Florida 


Ring on, ring on! Sweet golden bells, 

And fill those hearts with joy; 

May the hours bring them sweetest peace 
And bliss without alloy. 

God be with them evermore, 

Angels their loving watch keep, 

’Til He touches them softly at close of day, 
And gives His beloved sleep. 



Verses From Florida 


59 


To Mary. Caverly 

ONE OF THE LOVELIEST OF BRIDES 
June 18, 1927. 


Dear little bride of the mid-day, 

Here is every good wish for you, 

May sorrow shun your path-way, 

May all your dreams come true. 

May the love which is yours in the morning 
Go with you through all the long day 
Growing ever purer and stronger, 

Your joy, your comfort, your stay. 

When the evening shadows lengthen, 

May you still travel hand in hand, 

While soft on your ear falls the music 

Drifting through from the Heavenly Land. 

Through the Golden Gates of the sun-set 
Ere the shadows of night fall low, 

May His angel bid you welcome 

To the Land which no mortal may know. 




6o 


Verses From Florida 


. SUWANNEE 

During the year 1861-1865 the War Between the States 
was going on. The Federal Government, as a war measure 
established a blockade of all Southern ports, thus throwing 
the South upon her own resources for all her supplies of 
every kind. War is always cruel. Sherman said, “War is 
Hell”; no doubt in that instance at least he was right. 
This measure was making war on the women and children, 
and the sick: well people can get along with very little, 
but God help the weak and sick when what had hitherto 
been considered necessities were cut off by the inhuman 
hand of war. 

At first this blockade was considered to be impossible, 
then impracticable—then feasible, and then successful. A 
big blockading vessel was afloat at every Southern port. 
Blockade-running began: Brave and daring men risked 
their lives to bring in the needed supplies. Some of these 
attempts were successful, but most of them failed. At last 
the Blockaders had found and guarded nearly every en¬ 
trance, and to run the blockade was dangerous in the ex¬ 
treme. 

“Way down upon the Suwannee Ribber” two engineers 
seeking an entrance where the Blockaders could be evaded 
found the ideal spot. Few rivers travel such a winding way 
as does the Suwannee. Nowhere will you find a more beau¬ 
tiful or luxuriant growth, but the mouth of the river is 
one of the most dangerous places on the Florida coast; yet, 
this was the spot selected. 

Rough with rocks, roots, and deep, deep holes, and with 
all so crooked and dark that even a skilled native dreaded 
the pass, it seemed an unwise choice. But they went to 
work doing this at night by the light of a dark lantern, 
for the big Blockader rode at anchor not very far away. 

Their work was good. In and out of this twisted channel 
small boats wound their way to the side of the Blockade 
Runners, going with muffled oars in the dead of night and 



Verses From Florida 


61 


thus bringing in to the Confederacy the much-needed sup¬ 
plies. The dense growth on the banks of the river effectually 
concealed these small craft as they wended their way up 
the stream. 

Where the river curved like an immense serpent, where 
the tall trees with moss-hung branches almost over-arched 
the stream, a landing was made, and here the cargo was 
deposited to be carried in wagons to Tallahassee from 
whence these goods were forwarded to their final destina¬ 
tion. This was kept up until our Flag went down at Ap¬ 
pomattox, and the blessing it was to the struggling Con¬ 
federacy will never be known. 

Beautiful River with waters so clear, 

With a mystical name to our hearts ever dear, 
A name which brings tears to our eyes as we roam, 
And remember with longing “the old folks at 
home.” 

Rippling, purling, your waters glide, 

Seeking the way to the Gulf’s deep tide; 

Over palmetto roots and silvery sand, 

With a lovely growth on either hand. 

On your banks are springs of mineral wealth 

That give to all comers the great boon of health ; 
Bathe often enough in this chrystalline stream, 

A complexion will come like a poet’s dream. 

Health, and Wealth, and Beauty, 

In its marvelous depths are found, 



62 


Verses From Florida 


And he who glides down the Suwannee 
Looks forth on enchanted ground. 

Suwannee-Oh Suwannee- 

Will you stop and listen to me 

As you sing on your way from the bubbling spring 
To the shores of the Mexican Sea? 

Magical, mystic River, 

Your story must be sublime. 

Will you tell us of those you have known and loved 
As you flow o’er the sands of time? 

Paleface, I grant you this favor; 

There is love and truth in your eyes; 

What I tell you be sure you remember, 

For Suwannee is old and wise. 

The Red Man came first to my kingdom, 

Paddling up in his light canoe; 

Every day showed me new faces, 

And a village of wigwams grew. 

The Red Man held his love-trysts 
Beneath these moss-hung trees, 

And here, when the chase was ended, 

He sat in the cooling breeze. 



Verses From Florida 


63 


The Spaniard came, but he tarried not; 

He loved not my winding way. 

On, On, was the Spaniard’s motto, 

He must not lose a day. 

Life holds too little of peace and love, 

Too much of sorrow and pain: 

There came an army of pale-faced men 
And my red-skinned friends were slain. 

And now my silence was broken 
By sounds that were new to me, 

The mighty strokes of a woodsman’s axe 
And the crash of a falling tree. 

“The little hut among the bushes’’ 

Sprang up on the banks of the River, 

And the good old times of the good old days 
Were gone from Suwannee forever. 

Suns rose and set, moons waxed and waned, 
The changes that came were few. 

I rippled and sparkled and flowed along 
And sang as I used to do. 

Then a storm came over us, 

A bolt from a cloudless sky; 



64 


Verses From Florida 


The men of the South were marching on 
To the battle-field to die. 

Then, there came a time 

When Suwannee’s help was given; 

It thrills me so e’en yet 

My pride could reach High Heaven. 

My life grew quiet and still once more; 

Deer came to my waters to drink, 

While the bear and the panther thirsty grown 
Came down to the River’s brink. 

The squirrel and chipmunk played around; 

The birds sang sweet in the trees; 

Dolce far niente settled over the land, 

And Nature was taking her ease. 

Rumors I sometimes heard 

Of what the big world was doing; 

But then, you see, I am far, far away 

From the lands where trouble was brewing. 

I am wide awake now, trouble’s come to my door 
These changes are really surprising, 

For the land of my birth, both sky and earth, 

Is having a general up-rising. 



Verses From Florida 


65 


When I look at the sky I see flying by 
An awkward and noisy bird, 

While every hour some boat with a power 
Churning and chugging is heard. 

A strong bridge spans my current, 

Arching gracefully over head, 

And the noise of the motor cars passing 
Is truly something to dread. 

There is magic in earth and air, 

Suwannee has found a tongue 
To say as the old folks have always said, 
“Nothing like that when I was young.” 

So many who were my children 
Now stray in other lands, 

They’ve forgotten my health-giving waters, 
They’ve forgotten my sparkling sands. 

But speak the word “Suwannee” 

Each heart will cease to roam, 

They’ll long “for the old plantation 
And for the old folks at home.” 



66 


Verses From Florida 


THE SILVER JUBILEE 
To The Students of The Florida 
State Collec,e 


O’er these hills the Seminoles hunted, 

In these glades their maidens smiled, 

Where the Cherokee Rose and the Jasmine 
Grew in beauty wild. 

The glamour of Love and Nature 
Over this land was laid; 

Happy Indians, with “None to molest, 
None to make them afraid”. 

But changes come as the years roll on. 

And the Spirit of Change is here: 

No more will the young squaws wait 
For their braves to bring in the deer. 

Where Tallahassee’s wigwam stood 
A growing city stretches out, 

With motor-cars and aeroplanes 
Driving and flying all about. 

Florida’s^ capitol sits on the heights 
With beautiful oaks around, 




Verses From Florida 


67 


And he who walks beneath those trees 
Is treading historic ground. 

Nor is this all: across the town 
On a hill that is just as high, 

A college for Florida’s daughters 
Faces the eastern sky. 

No fairer spot has ever been. 

Nor ever yet will be, 

From the red clay hills of Georgia 
To the shores of the Mexican sea. 

’Tis twenty-five years since the call went forth 
To every hamlet and home, 

While Florida held out a loving hand 
And bade her daughters come. 

At first it seemed a hopeless task; 

Those answering were few; 

But the fame of the college spread abroad 
And the student body grew. 

They have teachers now of the very best, 

With a President white-haired and grand, 

And Conradi is a household word 
Throughout this Flowery Land. 



68 


Verses From Florida 


Let us tell of the girls who are studying here 
The things that will help them for many a year. 
They are pretty, too, these College girls, 

With arms entwined like a string of pearls, 

Or flitting like butterflies here and there, 

With sparkling eyes and wind-blown hair. 

Some like carnations, slender and tall, 

Some like the lilies that bloom in the fall, 

Some like pea-blossoms varied and sweet 
Whether you meet them on campus or street. 

May the Father of all these dear girls befriend, 
Be a Light to their path to the journey’s end. 

I’d like a prize package for every one 
Of some good mother’s well-trained son; 

Of course, to his wishes you’d have to cater, 
But never forget your loved Alma Mater. 



Verses From Florida 


69 


VANISHED HOURS 

Inspired by Dr. Seymour’s Music and Mrs. 
Seymour’s Flowers. 


The August moon, at its full, 

Was flooding the World' with light, 

From a nearby forest softly came 
The voices of the night. 

Cicada was frying her fritters, 

A mocking bird sang in the tree, 

In the grass “Poor Will” was complaining, 

For who so unhappy as he? 

Frogs in the meadow were croaking, 

Owls hooted on the hill, 

And the short, snappy bark of the fox was heard, 
As he sought his larder to fill. 

Myriads of tiny voices, 

Helped the chorus to swell, 

And Archturus, the Watchman of the night, 
Seemed to echo “All is well”. 




70 


Verses From Florida 


It was a wonderful night, 

Beauty transcending the day, 

And one could almost wish 
The August moon might stay. 

But already a change was coming— 
A coolness filled the air— 

It brought to my quickened senses 
A fragrance elusive and rare. 

The light was growing dimmer, 

The sounds more distant seemed, 
Wondering over the perfume, 

I slept—and then, I dreamed. 

A well remembered scene, 

Greeted my dreaming eyes, 
Hearing familiar voices, 

I turned in glad surprise. 


Dear friends of old, were drawing near, 
A lovely sight to see, 

And some, almost forgotten, 

Held out a hand to me. 



Verses From Florida 


7 


We talked of this, we talked of that, 

As friends long parted will, 

And many eager questions, 

Remain unanswered still. 

We sang the songs we used to sing, 

We wandered ’mid the flowers, 

Oh Memory, blessed Memory, 

Bringing in dreams, our vanished hours. 



72 


Verses From Florida 


A BIT OF ADVICE 

Of heterogenous learning there is never a lack, 
Written with pen or printed in black, 

Bound in volumes and placed upon shelves 
Where those who wish may choose for them¬ 
selves. 

Here all the ’ologies under the sun, 

Theories which died before fairly begun, 

’Isms and schisms and doctrines galore 
Which point out the way to every Church door. 

Books of science, musty and old, 

Which many secrets of nature unfold, 

Why the wind blows and why the tides rise, 
Why the sun and the moon give light to our eyes. 

Historic remains, buried for ages, 

Geologic strata studied by sages, 

Why the rain falls here and doesn’t fall there, 
Which seems to the Neophyte quite unfair. 

Chemistry too many wonders disclose, 

From dirty black oil come the tints of the rose, 



Verses From Florida 


73 


The blue of the sky, the green of the sea, 

And other bright colors we love to see. 

They have juggled around ’til there’s no use to eat, 
A tablet or two makes a meal complete: 

So many discoveries are daily unfurled, 

We think they in time will remodel the world. 

All these works are worthy of mention 
And should receive a close attention, 

But the mind of man is a curious thing, 

Like the bow long bent, it loses its spring. 

Something light is needed to take off the strain, 
And then ’twill be ready for study again; 

For the most of the world this light food is 
sought, 

If they dive in the depths they are apt to be 
caught. 

So here’s some advice, Scribendus, my friend, 

If you’d hold your readers entranced to the end, 
Leave erudite learning,—take up your pen 
And write of the sayings and doings of men. 



74 


Verses From Florida 


THE UNPARDONABLE SIN 

In the pleasant April sunshine, 

With Kitty and Pup at their side, 

The roly-poly Twinnies 
Are waiting to get a ride. 

The noon-day horn has sounded, 

Daddy will soon be here, 

Daddy, who of all the world, 

Is dearest of the dear. 

An auto is coming up the road, 

All blue and silver and white: 

Well they know who the driver is 
And they clap their hands in delight. 

The driver slows down as he nears the curb, 
Then he comes to a stand, 

The Twinnies clamber up in the seat 
Aided by Daddy’s strong hand. 

Kitty and Pup are put in the back, 

Then homeward they ride in state, 

Then the children run to tell mother, 

“This time we were not too late.” 



Verses From Florida 


75 


What would this world be without them 
With all their frolic and fun? 

Dear little human blossoms, 

I love you every one. 


A love for little children 

Is part of a good man’s creed; 

He would not offend these little ones 
By word, or look, or deed. 

In the “Book of Books” the Saviour 
Makes our duty very plain, 

And lest we should not remember, 

He repeats it again and again. 

He loves these little children 

He would shield with His sheltering Arm: 

Woe unto him who heeds Him not 
And seeks to do them harm. 

In that Book we are told of sinners 
To whose sin no pardon is given; 

No room for them at the Mercy Seat, 

No rest for them in Heaven. 




76 


Verses From Florida 


Whence do they come? What is their crime? 

To me, it seems this way,— 

These are the hardened wretches 
Who lead Child-Souls astray. 



Verses From Florida 


77 


MY DAD 

I’m going to-night to the picture show, 

I’ll tell you I got to go: 

My Daddy’s almost always kind 
’Cept sometimes when I fall behind 
In lessons. Then my Dad will say, 

“No picture show for you to-day”. 

’Tis no use then to go to Mother, 

For ’tis a fact, somehow or other, 

She always knows what Dad has said, 
So she smiles at me and shakes her head. 

Yesterday, when I went to school, 

I tried to remember every rule, 

I learned my lessons all by heart, 

And drew a geographic chart. 

Then I drew Teacher on my slate 
Flogging Bobby for being late. 

Now, Teacher has a great big nose, 

And crooked like a bow it grows; 

I was just sketching in the crook 
When Teacher came behind to look. 



78 


Verses From Florida 


He grabbed me by my hard new belt, 

(I wish he knew how bad it felt) 

He shook me up and bumped me flat, 

’Til I got as sick as our old cat. 

But I didn’t tell on Teacher, not a word; 

But some way, how it happened Daddy heard. 

When he came home to lunch to-day, 

He looked at me in such a strange new way, 
And said, “I’m proud I have a son who can 
Take what’s coming to him like a man”. 

I am as happy as happy can be, 

I’m so glad my Dad likes me. 

And he gave me this little book, 

Open it up and take a look. 

Count the tickets and you will know 
How many times this chap can go 

To that dandy treat, the Picture Show. 



Verses From Florida 


79 


CLASSMATES 

The short brown curls had fallen 
Shielding the face from view, 

And nobody knew that angry tears 
Were filling those eyes of blue. 

A teasing word, a sharp retort, 

Which cut like a whip-lash keen, 

And now her friend of a whole long year 
Was “cruel, and horrid and mean’’. 

The open book before her 

Was damp with the limpid flow 
For tears come easily in youth 
With every new-born woe. 

The chattering girls grow silent; 

The Master is coming in; 

She must raise her head and wipe her eyes, 
For lessons will soon begin. 

Can she make the class believe she is ill? 

Can she hide the trace of tears? 

Is she only a blubbering baby, 

In spite of her sixteen years? 



8o 


Verses From Florida 


'Tis a long, long day but it ends at last, 

The class comes trooping through the door, 
Margaret paused, “Let Louise go by, 

I shall never walk with her more”. 

“How could she have spoken those hateful words? 

I can never forgive her, never.” 

Two hours later with arms intwined, 

They were vowing friendship forever. 



Verses From Florida 


81 


THE AGE-OLD QUESTION 
A little girl sat on the door-step 
And watched the sun go down, 

A serious look was on her face, 

You might almost call it a frown; 

She watched the shadows lengthen, 

She saw the clouds roll by 
And she asked the age-old question, 

The same as you or I. 

“What made Father go hurrying off? 

Why did Mother cry? 

Why is the day so dark and chill 
Tho’ the sun is in the sky? 

Why is everything so changed 
Since the morning hours went by ? 

What is the matter with my world 
Won’t somebody tell me why?” 

Dear little heart, we all seek to know, 

The Whats and the Whys of life, 

But no answer comes to the questioning soul 
In its maddening whirl and strife, 

Yet a prayer kind Heaven has given 
Bringing Peace to every one, 

“Lord, help Thou mine unbelief, 

And let Thy Will Be Done.” 



82 


Verses From Florida 


IS EVERY MORN A WORLD MADE 
NEW? 

“Every day is a fresh beginning, 

“Every morn is a world made new,” 

So the poet says, ’tis often quoted. 

I wonder if the words are true. 

Can we wash off our lives like a school room slate? 
Can we make all the crooked marks come 
straight? 

Can we scrub off the stains of original sin? 

And on a clean white page begin? 

Would we be ourselves if the past was gone ? 

Could Memory be leashed as we canter on? 

Can we make for ourselves this new beginning? 
And forget all the joys and sorrows of sinning? 

I very much fear the effort to sever 

The past from each day is a vain endeavor; 
We’d not be ourselves without our past, 

For ’tis by our mistakes we are saved at last. 



Verses From Florida 


83 


TW we make of each day a fresh beginning, 
And make up our minds to do no more sinning 
You may take it from me, ’twill never be true 
“That every morn is a world made new.” 

Yet a promise is given 
To his children below, 

“Tho your sins be as scarlet, 

They shall be as white as snow.” 



8+ 


Verses From Florida 


THE SUNSET HOUR 

The West is a blazing glory of gold, 

From its shining depths rose tints unfold, 
Where in daylight brighest blue is seen 
The sky is a sea of palest green; 

Back in the distance, far away, 

Night is trailing her banners of gray. 

Each moment new beauties greet the sight, 
The Earth is bathed in a Fairy light, 

The rose and gold are fading fast, 

Opals and Pearls a faint radiance cast, 

The shadows deepen—w^e turn and say 
“This is the end of a perfect day.” 

Like unto life is this earthly day, 

Smiling or frowning along the way, 

From earliest dawn to the sunset hour 
We are held to our fate by a Higher Power, 
Through paths we cannot understand. 

We are led by a loving Father’s hand. 



Verses From Florida 


85 


Rough is the way—we stumble and fall— 
But His w r atchful care is over us all. 

Sins may be heavy, He’ll lighten the load 
As we travel along on the Western road. 
The beautiful glow of the sunset is here, 
The Pearly Gates are very near 

And we wait to hear Our Dear Lord say, 
“Here begins The Perfect Day.” 



86 


Verses From Florida 


WHEN THE GRASSHOPPER IS A 
BURDEN 

The days pass by, the years roll on, 

They rob us of our youth and fire; 

The limbs are weak which once were strong, 
The breath grows short, we quickly tire. 

The eyes grow dim—where once we viewed 
The sky and all that lies beneath it, 

’Tis but a mist—a blur—a dream— 

With naught but memory to wreathe it. 

The brain grows tired—sometimes it fails— 
Our friends look on with wondering eyes— 

We heed them not—we do not care 

Tho’ they may deem themselves most wise 

We stand within the sunset’s glow, 

The things we see we may not tell, 

Tho’ sight is dim and speech is slow 
Something assures us “All Is Well” 



Verses From Florida 


87 


When we cross the portal of the Home Immortal 
We shall shed Old Age like a mask, 

With the glory of Youth, its beauty and truth, 

In the “Joy of Our Lord we shall bask.” 

Dread not the passing—the truest of Friends 
Waits at the end of the way— 

His love will enfold us, His arm shall uphold us 
To The Land of Unclouded Day. 


*Note: If these lines shall carry a message to those hearts 
whose sands are running low the writer will be satisfied. 




l 

* 




88 


Verses From Florida 


THE OLD HOME 

Every foot of its soil is hallowed, 

The air is purer above its sod, 

Lonely, desolate, broken-hearted, 

’Tis left with its memories to God. 

Light were the hearts that first conceived it, 
They budded a home so grand and fair; 

Time and sorrow have now bereaved it, 

Naught but Dreams of the Past are there. 

Gone are the faces which smiled so brightly, 
Gone are the voices which echoed there, 

Gone are the feet which once tripped lightly 
Up and down the circling stair. 

Gray and gaunt and all dismantled, 

The dear old house is standing today, 

Saplings and vines grow up to the door-steps, 
Everything speaks of neglect and decay. 

Father of Mercies —when I enter Thy Kingdom 
To find the Mansion prepared for me, 

May it be like the home I have left forever, 

And may I and my loved ones abide there with 
Thee. 



Verses From Florida 


89 


THE GREATEST THING 

Youth, health and love they had, 

What more could mortal ask? 

No idle dreams of wealth and fame, 

When joy attends each task, 

Tho’ plain, and even poor, 

The dear home place, 

To them ’twas beautiful, 

Love was the saving grace. 

Toward sunset now their faces turn, 

And love abideth still, tho’ youth is gone, 

Storms came, and shadows fell, 

But hearts were warm and clouds passed on, 

Plain as of old, 

Is the dear home place, 

But now, as then, 

Love is the saving grace. 



90 


Verses From Florida 


Two lowly mounds neath the old oak tree, 
Where the shadows are flickering ever, 

And the places that knew them once on earth, 
Shall know them no more, forever, 

Gone to the home on the other side, 

Victors they, in the race, 

And angels are chanting the grand, sweet song, 
Of Love, the Saving Grace. 



Verses From Florida 


91 


BABY DEAR 

Have you seen this darling baby? 
With his skin as white as milk, 

With his eyes so clear and bright 
And hair as soft as silk? 

Every line’s a line of beauty, 
Hogarth, no flaw could pick, 

And we love him to distraction, 

The cunning little trick. 

He’s been with us just a little while, 
And yet he is so dear, 

We might have had him always, 
Instead of just a year. 

Time flies—and babies grow— 

Just see him now, 

There’s something very like a frown 
Upon that baby brow. 

That shovel is too heavy 
For the dainty little hand, 

And I tell you it is work, hard work, 
To make a pile of sand. 



92 


Verses From Florida 


SOME DAY 

Some day my eyes will open wide, 

This dark gray veil be cast aside, 

And I shall see with vision clear 
The faces which I hold most dear. 

Goodnight here—Good morning there— 
For those I leave behind a prayer, 

Then on to the Land of Joy and Truth— 
On to the Land of Eternal Youth. 


But earth is full of doubts and fears, 

And oftentimes a cause for tears, 

So ere I enter the Realm of Death 
I pause, and ask with bated breath 

Will those who left me long ago 
Know me and love me as of yore ? 

Will they care to claim me for their own 
Where we shall know as we are known ? 




Verses From Florida 


93 


Do the struggles of life leave scars on the Soul? 
And will it be healed ere it reaches its goal? 
When my feet the silent path have trod 
Will all be right in the sight of God? 


A promise my God has made to me, 

A home, where the many mansions be, 

Secure in His promise I’ll patiently wait 
’Til His Angel shall open the Pearly Gate 
And perchance I may hear in the Angel’s song 
The voice I have hungered for so long. 




94 


Verses From Florida 


HE KNOWETH BEST 

Father, to Thee, my prayer I raise 
For strength to bear these dreary days; 
Give me a share of Heavenly grace, 

To wear a cheerful, smiling face; 
Patience to stand the trying test 
For Lord, Thou knoweth what is best. 

My eyes, which once were servants true, 
No longer can my bidding do, 

They cannot guide the willing hand 
To do the tasks which I demand, 

They cannot aid me in my quest, 

Yet Lord, Thou knoweth what is best. 

Earth, slow is fading, from my sight 
But just beyond there beams a light, 

The falling rays of Bethlehem’s Star, 
That light which ne’er seems very far, 
It kindles hope within my breast, 

For Lord, Thou knoweth what is best. 



Verses From Florida 


95 


THE TORCH OF LIFE 

We did not ask the Gift of Life, 

We know not why ’twas sent; 

But He, the Lord of Earth and Heaven, 
Knows' why He gave and what He meant. 

In many varied forms the life torch burns, 
We may not see the mysteries unfold, 

Some of metal strong are made, some of clay. 
And some of purest, finest gold. 

Like meteors grand, some flash across the sky 
And fill the air with scintillating light, 

Some miss their aim—they fail—they fall, 
Lost in oblivion’s darkest night. 

Some stolidly pursue their stupid way, 
Insensate to earth’s beauty as a clod, 

These are of clay—we pass them by—■ 

We question not the wisdom of Our God. 



<)6 


Verses From Florida 


Of her baser metals the hosts of Earth are made, 
A motley throng, yet much of good is there, 
Beneath the rough surface oftentimes are found 
Pearls of great price and jewels rare. 

Some are dark with the stain of ages 
Some are polished and glow with light 
In quiet ways and self-forgetting, 

Great hearts are battling for the right. 

To all who carry the torch of life, 

There shall come sometime, a day—an hour— 
When the body shall die, and the soul shall go 
forth 

Called from earth by a Higher Power. 

When the Evening Star is shining, 

In the quiet sun-set sky, 

May we answer Our Father’s summons 
In “the Land of the Sweet Bye and Bye.” 



Verses From Florida 


97 


TIRED 

Mammy, can you see your baby? 

Do you know she’s sad tonight? 

Do you know she’s longing for you, 

With your touch so soft and light? 
Can’t you make old Time turn backward, 
Let her be a child once more 
And with your dear arms around her, 
Rock outside the nursery door? 

Cool and sweet the breeze is blowing, 
Sweeping every care away, 

Gray hairs and wrinkles disappearing, 
Childhood’s days have come to stay. 
Do not leave her Mammy, dearie, 

Sing your “Chile to sleep” once more, 
To the sleep that knows no waking, 

Until she enters Heaven’s door. 









































































































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